


give me your fucking spork

by lezz1e



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Internalized Homophobia, Jealousy, My First Work in This Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 18:00:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18922213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lezz1e/pseuds/lezz1e
Summary: Todd's eyes slither over his body with superiority- it makes Travis feel fucking sick. His stare looking down at him, and laughing. He can smell the pity: it fucking stinks. It leaks off of Todd like he hasn't showered in days.





	give me your fucking spork

**Author's Note:**

> okay so this is. all over the place and jittery. im so sorry. im just gonna blame it on the fact that its my first sally face work sindidjsud im sorry i havent got the characters right yet!

"I think that forks just, shouldn't exist. Spoons are right there," Sal says, ungracefully pushing his spoon behind his prosthetic. Strands of hair curling too much over his face, making food mingle into his hair. His voice calm and serious- almost with a hint of superiority, like he had just discovered the meaning of life.  

And not just asserted that spoons and forks did the same thing. 

Travis' face twists with confusion as he leans back slightly. His mouth unhinging from its usual scowl, a bewildered slight smile replacing it. His arms crossing over his body as his mind tried to wrack through Sal's logic. 

A state of carefree-ness seeping through his body. Sal's debate unexpectedly pulling him out of his thoughts. Out of his insecurities that made him stare too much at others, made him wonder what others thought of him and made him act the way he did. 

He doesn't think about the consequences of crossing a leg over his other one. He just does it. His knee slightly grazing against the bottom of the table. 

His mind also forgetting how much chewing gum resided there. 

He just wanted to prove Sal wrong. Nothing else. He took his façade off, if just for a little while. 

"What the- what?" Travis replied, his eyes blinking with astonishment as Sal met his gaze without any hesitation. It makes Travis' smile curve more: Sal really, really thought he was right about this. He really- 

"Spoons and forks are practically the same?" Sal explains, ignoring Travis' reaction to continue eating. His favourite spoon that he always brought from his apartment shining in his hand, making him feel more comfortable about unhinging his prosthetic to eat. 

Travis twists his head to the side, wondering if this was the right moment to ask why Sal stares at the cafeteria food like that. To ask if it's an old habit from his last school, being suspicious of school food. 

The spoon/fork debate is too interesting, he puts it into the back of his mind. Just like he tries to put that, that, that and that into the back of his mind. 

Fuck, he thought about it again. Quick, think about spoons and forks. 

"No the fuck they aren't?" Travis says, his eyes flashing around the room as he felt eyes on his back. His teeth gnawing at his lips as he fought to stay facing Sal. His fingers tapping loudly against his chair. 

Sal notices the change in mood. Thank fucking- no, not him. 

"Yes the fuck they are? Both hold food until it's in your mouth, same function," Sal continues, his eyes leaning onto Travis heavily, trying to pull him back into the state of ignorance. His prosthetic jolting upwards slightly, that way it always does when he's smiling. His shoulders slumping over the table, waiting for Travis to crack another smile. 

Travis huffs at him, the eyes on his back jittering into the background. His hands pulling his fork and spoon from his tray to hold them up side by side. His eyes moving from the fork to the spoon critically, flashing glances at Sal. 

Laughter bubbling softly in his throat, a hesitant smile fighting its way onto his face. 

"Twins," Sal announces, picking up his own fork and spoon before waving them side by side slightly. Waving them faster as a chuckle finally flew from Travis' mouth. His laughter simmering, making his cheeks red. 

He can feel Sal watching him be unguarded, but it doesn't feel like pity from him. It doesn't feel like anything, but normal and natural. It's nice. 

"Explain to me Travis, how they are different," Sal tells him, waving them even more, waiting for bundles of laughter this time. 

"One is for desserts and the other is for dinners," Travis says, slamming his spoon next to his pudding and his fork next to his meal. His eyebrows raising at Sal. Trying to prove him wrong. 

His feelings true and bright on his face. His movements relaxed, with no pent up anger or guilt or self-hatred. His smile loud, with dimples harsh like they had been poked into his skin. His body language natural- not caring if he looked masculine enough or straight enough. 

Sal was pretty fucking proud of him, Travis could feel it beaming off of him. But Sal wouldn't dare tell him that yet, it was too early. He could revert back at any time. 

Sal will tell him about it later. 

"If they don't have different functions then why do sporks exist?" Todd says as he walks past and Travis feels his composure crack.  

He can feel his stature looming over him, waiting for Travis to reply. 

Todd's eyes slither over his body with superiority- it makes Travis feel fucking sick. His stare looking down at him, and laughing. He can smell the pity: it fucking stinks. It leaks off of Todd like he hasn't showered in days. 

Travis feels the envy churning in his stomach, and the self-hatred makes its way into his brain. He needs to get out of this fucking place, away from the person who has everything Travis needs.  

But he feels Sal's eyes on him, and knows that this is a stepping stone. He just needs to stay quiet.  

He sits, his back straight against the back of the chair. His legs uncrossing immediately, shame clutching at his heart like a fist. Anger wracking through himself because of that shame.  

Sal's told him so many times. Shame's fucking useless, and it doesn't belong with him being- 

Fucks sake he can't even fucking say it. 

Todd's presence makes everything worse. 

He's fucking pathetic and stupid compared to Todd, and it makes him really mad.  

Really mad at himself for being so hung up about. Mad at being mad. It's a process or, whatever the shit Sal likes to say.   
Todd reaches over to pick the fragments of food from Sal's hair, and Travis feels disgusting. He'd been trying to do that for ages, but he's so scared of being predatory and like the men his dad has told him about- and Todd can do it so easily? So casually? He's not scared of being perceived that way? He just, did it. Like he was the same as every other friend Sal had, and not the gay one. 

Travis feels like fucking crying and screaming. But his mouth stays closed, like it's sealed up with glue. The years of keeping his thoughts hidden, making him unable to speak. 

The routine of being quiet about it, locking him into a cage of his own making. 

He really wants Todd to keep on walking now. 

He really wants to stop Todd from walking away, and grab all his self-confidence from his chest and take it for himself. He wants to steal that self-acceptance from Todd's heart and wrap it around every crevice of his body. He wants to have the happiness that wraps itself around Todd like a blanket. 

He wants that security and safety, despite being what they were. Despite what they thought. Despite what they wanted. Despite who they were. 

He wants to take the pride flag on Todd's jumper, and not feel bad for wanting it. Not feel bad for wearing it. Not feel bad for being it. 

Todd walks away. Travis hopes they can have a conversation someday. 


End file.
